


Act One

by Contego



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: This is a rewrite of act one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Contego/pseuds/Contego
Summary: Ever get tired of reading Hamlet and having no clue what they're saying? Well, look no further.





	Act One

**Author's Note:**

> Literally can't believe I spent time doing this.

The darkness fell upon my country of Denmark, yet I still laid in my bed unable to shake my terrible thoughts and sleep. It’s been two months since the death of my father. Still, I feel the emptiness in my chest. My dear friend Horatio continually tries to console me and my ever growing despair through his letters, but nothing works. Nothing will.

The unimaginable happened. My father’s body not even cold and grave still not settled when my mother took arms with my uncle. Their incestuous sheets stink more potent than the strongest of the French cheeses. My feelings of unstoppable sorrow quickly dispersed and bled out into a deadly mix of unfathomable rage and grief. Every night the last thought to cross my mind was these things. It tormented me to no end. 

 

The next day  was  the wedding of my mother and uncle. Oh God, how I get sick from the sheer thought of their consummation and betrayal. Claudius, my uncle, claimed it would uplift Denmark through the sorrow of losing my father. I think he says these things to win my love and trust. There’s nothing he could say or do to earn any of that from me.

 

The ceremony of their marriage lasted only an hour and I made it my duty to  _ not _ attend. I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes after what she’s done. I was within hearing distance of the wedding, which meant I heard Laertes and the newly crowned King speaking of his wishes. Laertes wants to go back to France? I say let him. While I am fond of him and his sister, I don’t really hold an emotion for them at this particular moment in time. All my thoughts are currently pointed towards my father and the deep melange of grief and anger within me. And the incestuous treason isn’t exactly helping with that. 

 

I was torn back into the moment when I heard Laertes give a yell of excitement. Oh. The King must have given Laertes his blessing to leave.  I decided to enter the room and actually pretend to care about what was happening. I immediately regret such actions. 

 

“Hamlet! My nephew and now son!” Claudius called out, noticing how particularly unfestive I looked, “Why are you still so gloomy?” Even if it’s two months into a life without my father, I still opted to wear my mourning clothing. I just can’t bring myself to disrespect his honor and prematurely end the mourning time. 

 

“Hamlet, dear, you can’t keep living like this. Death is apart of life. It happens all the time.” My eyes shot from the ground then directly looking into hers. How could she say this? Her husband has just died and not only is she here marrying another man but telling me, her son, to essentially get over it? 

 

“Yes, it does happen often, mother.”

“Then why does it seem to bother you so much, dear Hamlet?” She asked, worry presenting itself in her voice. My fists clenched, breath hitching. I knew she wouldn’t understand.

 

“It doesn’t  _ seem  _ to bother me, mother. It  _ does  _ bother me, “ I paused, “neither my weeping, nor my laments, nor black clothing, nor my downcast gazes, nor any other display that you consider grief can properly display just how badly it hurts for me inside. I have more grief boiling inside me than a thousand man army ever felt. My demeanor and clothing only provide you with a hint of it.” My mother’s eyes softened, reaching out to touch my cheek. Surprisingly, I allowed her to- something I previously wouldn’t have done. Claudius simply rolled his eyes, nudging his new wife aside to fully stand in front of me.

 

“That’s simply unmanly, Hamlet. I’m your new father now, so there’s no reason to be sad.” The King and Queen exchanged glances, her eyes pushing him to say more, “And... your mother and I want you to stay here… We don’t wish for you to return to Wittenberg.” I stood there, my expression one of surprise. I asked to return back to my schooling, yet they are asking me to cast it aside to be with them. I looked at my mother, whose eyes practically begged me to say yes. 

 

“I shall obey.” I almost whispered out, wishing I could return back to a place with so many good memories and friends. In a fit of joy, Claudius escorted everyone out of the room to celebrate the news of me staying here. I didn’t follow them. I just couldn’t. My world was already spinning so fast I barely kept it together, but now it’s all the way out in space. I’ve lost the one thing grounding me I had left. 

 

“Oh God, How tired, stale, and pointless life is to me. I am an unkempt garden where weeds flourish. I wish this fleshy body turned into vapor, or God did not make a law against self-slaughter…”  I felt the emotion well within me, “And  _ she  _ hardly mourned her  _ husband-  _ my  _ father _ ,” I paused, my heart growing heavy, “but my heart must shatter in silence and in solitude. No one can hear my feelings aloud.” My eyes cast themselves downwards. 

 

The door to the room swung open, the sounds of footsteps echoing around me. I turned around to see who had come when I was met with both confusion and joy. 

 

“Hello, Hamlet.” Horatio smiled at me, coming towards me and embraced me. Horatio and I met at Wittenberg and remained close friends since that very day. Last time I spoke to him, he had no plans to come up and visit! Our guards, Marcellus and Barnardo, followed close behind. However, they looked more troubled than joyous. 

 

“Horatio! What are you doing so far from school?” I looked at the two of them.

Let’s just say I felt like skipping school.” We both laughed.

“Yeah right. I know you’d  _ never  _ do that. What are you  _ really _ doing here?” Horatio and I let go of each other, the two guards still standing close by.

 

“I came for the funeral of course.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the wedding?” I asked, my disgust at the whole event seeping through.

“Well, that did naturally follow shortly after.” He and I stood there in silence for a moment. He knew my father was a touchy subject that I rarely wanted to discuss. 

 

“I think I see him sometimes, Horatio.” This peaked the interest of the guards and my dear friend for some strange reason. They all drew closer.

“Where?” I looked at him and pointed to my head.

“In my mind’s eye,” I paused, “He was a great man. Perfect in every way, don’t you agree?” To this Horatio just nodded. He wouldn’t really know, for he’s only met my father once in person. He knew of my father through the letters we wrote to each other in Wittenberg. Oh, how the painful memory of that last letter resonates in my soul.

 

_ *** _

_ “Hamlet, there’s a letter for you.” Horatio walked over to me, handing me a small letter with our family crest stamped into the wax seal. My father. Horatio stood over me, watching my every move. He hardly got any letters, but neither did I unless it was something of great importance.  _

_ Carefully I opened the letter. I didn’t want to see what it said. Needless to say, there was a strong possibility that what it contained would either be extremely happy or devastatingly sad. Either way, I didn’t like the two extremes.  _

 

“Dear beloved Hamlet,

I hope Wittenberg is going well and you’re keeping up with all your studies. However, I write to you not just to give you my wishes. I regret to inform you that your father has fallen ill and passed away. We will hold off the funeral until your arrival. We have people that will bring you a ship back home in a few days.

Best of wishes,

Your dear mother

 

_ “Hamlet… I’m… I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do?” Horatio’s voice sounded soft, but it still harsh to my ears. I blew him off, walking off. I couldn’t think straight at all in this moment. My father just died. But he was in good health last time I spoke to him... How could this happen? I made it back to my room as quickly as I could to pack my things. I have to get home as soon as possible. Something isn’t right. _

 

***

“Hamlet… I think I saw him last night.” Horatio said quietly, unsure of his words. I looked at him, confused.

 

“Saw who?” Horatio looked at me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

 

“Your father. The dead king.” I was speechless for a few moments, not able to even form words in my mind.

 

“My father the king?!” I yelled, a smile almost starting to form on my face. I can’t believe this has happened! There has to be a reason for this. A sign from God?

 

“Yes! I saw him with these two as witnesses.” He gestured to the two guards behind him. They nodded at me frantically. 

 

“Dear God, Horatio, tell me what happened now!” The three of them looked back and forth at each other before Horatio began to speak again.

 

“Well… It was at around twelve in the morning for the past few days when these two saw a figure that looked much like your father. On the third night, they told me of this and I stayed guard with them to witness it,” He paused, running his hands through his hair, “He appeared. I know your father and it was him. I tried to speak to him, but the rooster began to crow and he then vanished. That’s when the light came.” There’s no way this could be true… Right? I turned from the three of them, running my hands through my hair. I honestly don’t know how to feel. Of course, I feel excited, but this has so many emotions mixing inside me.

 

“I’ll be at the guard's post around eleven to twelve to keep watch with you. You are dismissed.” I listened to their footsteps slowly dissipate and when I knew I was alone. My thoughts began to run. 

“It must have been foul play… My father’s ghost… What evil deeds have been committed here?” I writhed inside my mind, staying in that spot for a few moments longer before finally exiting. I had to find out if the hunch I had back at Wittenberg rang with truth.

 

***

Horatio, the guards and I stood outside the gates, shivering. The air definitely felt nippy and whipped around us without pause.

 

“What time is it?” I asked, looking over at Horatio. He gave a shrug.

 

“A little before twelve I believe.” The guards cut off Horatio, shaking their heads. 

“No, no. The clock already struck. It’s after twelve.” Marcellus corrected, running up to stride next to us. I opened my mouth to reply but got suddenly cut off by the sound of trumpets and cannon fire. Horatio looked at me with his eyebrow lifted. I sighed, knowing that I’d have to explain the actions of my “family.”

“It’s tradition, Horatio. It means the king will be up all night drinking. Other countries criticize us for our loud parties and drinking.” Horatio began to laugh, which only made my irritation grow. 

“Don’t laugh! This ruins the reputation of Denmark, even though our achievements are high-” Horatio cut me off, turning my head to where he was looking. The color had left his face. 

 

“Hamlet, look- Here it comes!” I pointed to the figure that stood before us. My father. There he stood in his armor, the visor up to reveal his pale, sad face. I took a step closer only to see his dark brown beard with the specks of grey in it. 

“Father… Whether you are a demon or an angel sent down by God, I must talk to you. Please.” My voice grew soft, eyebrows furrowing. I can’t believe this is actually happening. Yet I stood there and he still said nothing.

“Answer me! Tell me why you’ve come back from the grave. What do you want? What do you need us to do?” I begged, taking one more step closer to him. Finally, my father reached out his hand, motioning for me to go with him. Horatio looked at me, fear present in his eyes. 

 

“Hamlet, no. It wants you to go with it. Don’t go.” Marcellus looked at me, nodding in agreement with Horatio. I looked at them full of anger. How could they say this? That’s my father and he wants me to follow. I have to obey. 

 

“I don’t value my life. I don’t care if he has ill-intent on me. Oh, he’s waving again… I must follow.” 

 

“What if it tempts you to the sea, my Lord?” Horatio asked, grabbing me by the arm. I shook him off of me, glaring. He had no right to keep me from my father like this. Marcellus and the ever silent Bernardo followed him, trying to hold me back. I only struggled against their grip even more. 

 

“You shall not go!” Horatio yelled out at me, his grip on me not faltering. I struggled with all my might, breaking free from the three men. Immediately I drew my sword, pointing it at them. In sheer seconds they backed off. 

 

“Everyone back up! This is my fate and if anyone tries to stop me, I will be making ghosts of him.” I turned my head to the ghost of my father, “Go. I’ll follow you.” I spoke to him, following my father as he led me into the woods. 

 

“Where are we going?” I asked through pants for air, finally sheathing my sword. My father simply shushed me.

 

“Listen to me. It’s almost time for me to go, so you must listen. Soon you must be ready for revenge, my son.” I looked at him, shocked. What could this mean? Was foul play really what has happened to my poor father?

 

“If you’ve ever loved me, Hamlet, you must avenge my murder.” My eyes widened. Everything I believed and theorized has now been confirmed for me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around this revelation. Who would dare kill my father- the best king in all of Denmark? The fairest and just-

 

“I shall take revenge faster than you will think. Tell me.” I took a step closer to him, eagerly awaiting his instructions.

 

“Everyone told you it was a poisonous snake that took my life while I slumbered in my garden- Like I usually do. But that’s not what happened. The serpent that did sting thy father’s life now wears his crown.” At this, my eyes cast downwards. My uncle. He was the one who killed my father… I knew something wrong with the picture that he painted. 

 

“Not only did he rob me of my now incestuous queen, but murdered me. While I slept in my garden he snuck up, pouring henbane in my ear. I broke out in a scaly, fiery rash all over my once smooth, pale body. That’s  how he took my life, Hamlet.” He looked at the sky, his eyes softening, “But do not harm your mother, my son. The glow worm's light is beginning to fade, so I must part. Adieu, Hamlet. Remember me.” I reached out to touch him, wanting to be able to feel the armor once more… But in that moment he vanished. I stood there completely defeated. Not only had I just discovered that the incestuous animal that is my uncle murdered my father, but I once more was left alone by him. My father, once again, left me. However, not of his own accord this time unlike the last. Alone I stood, my thoughts and feelings mixing, writhing and burning a hole of complete anger and despair into my mind. I cannot escape these feelings, but I don’t know if I want to anymore. They’re my driving force now. 

“Oh, all those in heaven, Earth… Even Hell, keep me alive and well. Oh, the villain, the villain, the smiling, damned villain! My journals!—I must write down that one may smile, and smile, and yet still be a villain,” I paused, thinking over my next words, “ At least I’m sure it’s possible to do so in Denmark.” I gave a laugh as I took out from my pocket a small journal I carried, scribbling down my previous thoughts. I kept this with me to write down such revelations and beliefs as they came. My peers at Wittenberg thought it crazy of me, but it came in handy for times like this. Well… I honestly never thought I would need to write about my damned uncle and incestuous mother. But there’s a first time for everything. A smiled crept up my face as I finished my thought, placing the journal back into my pocket. 

“Time to deal with the vow I made my father.”


End file.
